Confession
by fearlessgoddess2
Summary: A one-shot, taking place right after Metamorphasis. Dean visits a church. He really needs to vent.


**A one-shot, taking place right after Metamorphasis. Thought it'd be appropriate and wanted to put a lot of emotion into it. Hope you like it! **

**Reviews are like chocolate!**

**Confession**

Dean walked into the church, his gaze drifting around to the paintings of angels and stained glass creating a rainbow of shadows around the hall. His footsteps seemed loud and echoed, as if he were an intruder. He wasn't sure. He wasn't a man of God. Sure, he'd allegedly been visited by an angel, a warrior of God, but it wasn't enough to take without some more proof.

_But really, proof?_ Dean thought to himself as he took steps past the pews, gradually getting closer to the front. What proof was he expecting to get? So far, the only proof he'd received was evident of something of great power, great strength, and great influence, further than any he'd ever encountered. Something that could burn the eyes of a human out of their skull just for them looking on his true form, that could shatter glass and have Dean writhing on the ground in pain, hands clamped over his ears tightly when it spoke in its true voice.

And his brother….

He was losing him. He fought so hard to keep his brother safe. That was what he needed to do.

Keep Sammy safe….

Keep Sammy safe….

_ Keep Sammy safe…._

And yet it seemed that from the beginning there was a force unlike any other that was pushing against Dean's will to save his brother. Pushing _hard_. Something inside Sam himself that, though the boys had yet to say it out loud, they had called Sam a freak, a weirdo, dangerous, going down a dark road, all that…they had yet to admit one thing about Sam's demonic blood.

_ They were scared._

Dean took a deep breath, as if it was his last, before drawing the curtain aside, going into the booth, and sitting down, closing the curtain. He swallowed hard, shifting nervously, and looked around the small enclosure, for the hundredth time asking himself, "_Why am I here?_" only to have himself answer, "_Well, you idiot, where the hell else are you supposed to go that you can keep yourself from going completely bonkers?"_

Dean took another breath as the sliding grid slid back, revealing the lattice, and Dean spoke to him after a few moments. "I…Bless….Bless me father…for I…have sinned."

"How long has it been since your last confession?"

Dean let out a long breath. "Ah…." He paused, looking around, avoiding looking at the lattice screen. "Probably…a few years…at least…. Probably more."

"What do you wish to confess?"

Dean noticed his leg was bouncing slightly and he put a hand on it, forcing it to stop. _What the hell am I doing?_ "Honestly father," Dean whispered, folding his hands in his lap as he hunched forward, "I don't know why I'm here. I don't know what I could possibly gain from this. My views on God and angels have changed…quite a bit recently, but…I still don't know who to trust and who to suspect and how I can…save my brother when _now_….."

Dean realized he was sweating, but he didn't take off his jacket. Instead he wiped his hand across his forehead, wiping the excess moisture off on his jeans. God, where could he start? Where could he end, for that matter? He didn't know what to do.

That was the whole problem there, wasn't it? When he was younger, it was so much easier. Kill the evil. Save the good. Kill the evil. Save the good. Like a mantra. Then he grew up. And things got complicated.

Sam had always made things complicated. His innocent perspective on life. But nothing like his life lately. Saving vampires from other hunters. Having to murder a woman in cold blood because she was infected with a virus that would cause her to murder and maim everyone and anyone she could. A werewolf that Sam fell in love with, and was then forced to murder. Finding out his mother had been a hunter and had made a deal with Azazel to bring John back to life, unknowing that it would end in her demise and Sam drinking demon blood. Not to mention the fact that his new best buddy Castiel basically said he ripped Dean out of hell, and he could, without a problem, throw him right back in.

But all that paled in comparison to one thing. One important fact that ruled his whole life.

Watch. Out. For. Sam.

The thing was, his dad said it and it meant he wanted Dean to keep his brother safe, until that one day, the day his father died, that his father whispered in his ear that he may have to kill Sam. Murder his own brother. Then his brother said it, and he meant to make sure that he didn't turn into something evil. And that if he did, to kill him. To kill his own brother. Sam looked him in his eyes, with drunken puppy eyes no less, and made him promise to kill him if he ever turned into a monster. And Dean promised. And Sam remembered that promise.

"Son?"

Dean didn't jerk at the reminder that there was someone else there, but he did realize that tears were streaming down his face. He let them.

"Father, let me ask you something," Dean whispered, staring at his hands.

"Of course."

"You take this job o' yours pretty seriously, right?"

"The confidentiality of a confession?"

"No. Being a priest. You know that there's…evil out in our world. You know there are really, really bad things that try to hurt good people. You know that there's a higher power, a God, and that there are demons."

"Yes, my son. I do believe."

"Well I gotta spill all this…stuff…to someone or else…I'm going to take another swing at my brother." Dean ran a hand over his face, wiping away tears, and sniffled tightly. "I just recently got a few of the pieces to this puzzle, so bear with me…. My grandfather and grandmother were hunters. They hunted evil things. Demons. Spirits. What-have-you. And they taught it to my mother, Mary. Now my mother fell in love with a man named John. Although her father objected to the marriage, Mary was adamant to marry this man."

"Now…a demon had surfaced in the area, making deals with folks nearby. When Mary and her father go hunting to investigate…the demon takes a liking to Mary. And later that night, the demon follows them and kills John in front of Mary. And as Mary holds John in her arms…his neck broken…the demon whispers in her ear that he will bring John back. But in ten years, the demon will visit her. The demon is unclear as to why, but says that as long as he isn't interrupted, that nobody will get hurt."

"Mary makes that deal," Dean whispered, choking over his words.

"Ten years later, Mary is married to John and they have two children, Dean, who's four and Sammy who's 6 months old. That night, the demon comes into the house. Into little Sammy's…nursery…and drips demon blood…into his mouth. And then he's interrupted by Mary, who runs into the room, recognizing the demon's yellow eyes. So he murders her. John, Dean, and Sammy all get out of the house alive and watch…from outside…as it burns."

"John, Dean, and Sam grow up as hunters. Sam gets into a serious relationship only to have the woman he loved taken the same was his mother was taken by the same demon. Two years after that incident, Dean kills the demon. The Yellow Eyed Demon. Azazel."

"Now Sam and Dean find out about the demon blood in Sam. Left and right, Sam's been keeping secrets from Dean. Sam already knew about the demon blood in him. He knew about these powers it could give him, demon exorcising powers, and he's been using them behind Dean's back." Dean took in a shaky breath, tears continuing to stream down his face, and forces himself to continue, to get it all out, or he never will. "He's lied to Dean, lied to his brother who has _protected_ him his whole life and just wants him to be _safe_. To just stay _safe _and _alive _and _good_. And he keeps these secrets from Dean because…because…."

"He is scared."

Finally the priest speaks. Just three words, but they allow Dean to continue.

"He is so completely and totally…scared," Dean breathed. "_That_ was why I made that drunken promise. He made me promise to kill him if he ever got too far. If it ever went too far. If he crossed the line, if he was evil, if he was hurting people he told me to _kill him_! His own _brother_! He told me to….."

Dean forced himself to take in a shaky breath, wiping away snot with his sleeve carelessly and sniffling, hating the tears and the sadness that he perceives as weakness, but loving the fact that he can unload in this place, this haven, and it is really and truly all right to do so.

"Both boys are scared," the priest says quietly. "Because they have built a relationship further than most brothers. They are bonded. And to tear that bond apart is to rip apart two halves of one whole. And to hurt or kill one half is to hurt or kill another."

Dean took in and let out a deep breath, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"Fear is a powerful emotion, young man. It can force a person to a state of unbelievable calm, or into a state of uncontrollable rage. It's less of a weapon and more of a trigger to it. Fear is rarely unwarranted. It is what you do with that fear and how you manage it that can control your fate."

"But I don't know what to do," Dean whispered, the last part of the sentence cracking off into a sob.

"You love your brother. It is your duty to protect him. You feel powerless in this situation because you cannot understand. You cannot empathize or even sympathize with what he is feeling. You are utterly terrified of the possibility of killing your brother being a last option some point in the future. You are desperate for him to stay and fight with good. To be with you. To fight by your side. Not to leave you."

"Not to leave me," Dean whispered. "I don't want him to leave me."

"And yet at the same time, he does not want you to leave him. With what you boys do as hunters, for one of you to turn into a monster, it is one of the worst, hellish possibilities out there. And he is your younger brother. As terrified of what he might become as you are, you love him and he loves you. And you have to hold on to that to keep yourselves together. To keep up the good fight. Don't make promises to each other, much less drunken promises, about something as priceless and precious as your lives. Just know that when the time comes, you will do the right thing. Both of you will. And as brothers, if one of you makes a mistake, the other will fix it. Two halves of a whole."

Dean nodded slowly. "Two halves of a whole," he whispered. Dean sat, still, breathing for a few moments, before he turned to the lattice and let out a shadow of a smile. "Thank you, father."

"Bless you, my child," the man spoke, making the sign of the cross.

Dean stood up, moving the curtain aside, making the sign of the cross, before turning and slowly walking out of the church.


End file.
